I groaned, frustrated and not awake enough to run. So I continued on.
I walked, watching as a group of men exited the cars one by one. They began walking to me, as I walked foreword to them.
I was now face to face with one of the men. He was tall, a little overweight. He looks like he's pretty strong. He wore a black and grey, scratched up denim jacket, black pants, typical biker shoes, a pair of dark sunglasses, and a black bandana covering his bald head.
I smirked, realizing how "movie" this is.
"Would you by chance be Catlin?" the man said with a deep southern accent, voice scratched by too many cigarettes.
"Who?" I said, not very confused by his question.
There was a small moment of silence as the man attempted to stare me down.
"What do you want?" I spat.
His hand gripped his pocket, pointing out to me that he had a gun.
"Ugh. No. I'm not Catlin." I said.
"Why don't I believe you." He said, making it obvious that it wasn't a question.
He pulled a black handgun halfway out of his pocket.
My eyes darted to the crowd on men behind the one in front of me, then to the gun, then back to the man.
Now I'm scared.
I contemplated my options. I could run, or I could stay. God knows what would happen if I stayed, but what if I ran? I would surely be shot. But maybe not...
My breathing got shaky, as I nervously fiddled with my fingertips.
"You're wasting my time." He said gruffly.
"You're wasting mine." I replied bravely.
Flashes of my past began to surround me, as I figured out what to do. Growing up, I was taught self defence, but not enough. But i'll have to use what I've got... I mean, do I have a choice?
"What's your name." I asked.
"That's none of your business." He replied.
"Then how is my name any of yours?" I hissed.
He raised his arm to hit me, as I took advantage by grabbing his wrist and twisting it until he showed pain. Everything around me other than the man looked fuzzy. I felt Adrenalin rush through my veins as I snatched the gun out of his hand. I let go of his wrist and held the gun, doing my best to look like I knew what I was doing. The man shook his head with an evil smirk on his face.
"Bad move."
The group of men began to surround me, as I pointed the gun, aiming it at the man, who was rubbing his wrist in attempt to fix it.
As they began to enclose my space I rested my hand on the trigger of the handgun, ready to shoot. My hands shook as the man stepped closer to me. Then... I shot him. It seemed as if it happened in slow motion. The bullet leaving the gun, and hitting the man directly in the middle of his forehead. He collapsed onto the as fault with a loud groan and the men surrounding me pulled guns out from their belts.
My heart beating loudly, I gripped he gun, aiming in different directions in seconds.
I breathed heavily, praying I would survive. I have to live. I have to get to New York.
"Please." I whispered. "If you all put your weapons down, I'll put mine down. And you can take me." I stuttered.
"Just please don't shoot me." I pleaded, making myself appear weak.
I slowly set the handgun on the ground next to my foot, maintaining eye contact with the men surrounding me. Ac couple stepped foreword, dropping their guns to the ground and grabbing my upper arms tightly. I looked at the ground, understanding that there was no way out of what I had done. Then, everything went black.
